The Asphyxia of the Soul
by Lesmizmaniac
Summary: To die for a lack of love is horrible. The asphyxia of the soul. -Victor Hugo. Enjolras is a the marble statue with no capability to love. Éponine has never felt love. The term itself is a stranger at the end of a dark passage. Yet, somehow it finds them anyways. Co-written by 24601yourparolesbegun.


A.N./ I'm just going to mention this now. This is a re-write of I feel my soul in fire. My co-writer and I decided that we weren't using the best of our abilities in this piece of writing. So, we decided to wipe the slate clean and start over. Some of the main ideas are the same but not most of them, which is why we decided to rename it as well.

Disclaimer: My co-writer and I aren't profound novelists who's books are read by millions. We do not own the characters or the plot line. Only our imaginations of what could have happened.

Ch. 1 She left

The dark light from the moon shone into the wrecked flat. Dirt smears decorated the walls, bugs crawled around freely, broken bottles littered the floor. Dirty dishes overflowed the sink and the glass from the shattered window lay at the foot of the pantry. The wind whistled and howled, the tune echoing off the thin walls.

Éponine cowered in fear as the figure approached her with a sadistic grin etched on his filthy, muddy face. Tears stung her eyes and her heart pounded in her ears. With sweating palms, she reached up to protect her face from her stance on her knees.

_Smack_.

The blow of his fist stung her dirt-covered cheeks. His emerald ring made an indent on her face and she cried out in pain, falling backwards against the wall the force of another blow attacked her face. Silent sobs wracked her body as she willed to keep herself silent, as if not to worsen the punishment. With a smirk, M. Thènardier pulled back his black boot and swung it forward, catapulting it into Éponine's side.

"Well, you're a tough one!" Her father grinned evilly before repeating the action of kicking her stomach, over and over again.

Until it stopped once again. Then, everything was silent. The earth seemed to stopped spinning on its axis, the moon stopped shining the reflected ray and a private bubble of hurt and pain covered Éponine.

_Smack_.

Yet again, the raised hand flew forcefully across her face.

I'm going to die today, Éponine thought to herself.

She closed her eyes in prayer and waited for the pain to inflicted on her. Deep, eerie breaths filled the empty pause. Silence billowed around the run-down room. Seconds ticked by, the broken clock muttering it's disagreement with every stroke. She waited for the forceful blow to be inflicted upon her.

Nothing came. She opened her eyes and very slowly, she looked up to where her father stood above her, breathing heavily, his eyes dark and cold.

He snarled at his daughter, baring his teeth like a straggly mutt.

"You're sure a useful one, aren't you," He told her sarcastically.

Éponine lowered her head in disgrace.

"You a good for nothing punching bag! Ya don't stand up for yourself but ya sure don't do y' work. You ain't my daughter!" He yelled.

"I'll try better next time, Papa," She whispered.

He spat at the ground viciously, with absolutely no remorse, no regret in his eyes. His eyes narrowed, his forehead scrunched up and he squared his shoulders with disgust.

"There won't be a next time. Get outta my sight. I don't ever want to see you again," He screamed, his face turning red as he pointed towards the door for emphasis.

His boots crunched against the flooring as he folded his arms across his chest.

"I'm gonna get a drink. You better not be here when I'm back," He muttered before turning around and walking right into a different area of the flat.

Éponine painfully pulled her battered and bruised body off the dirt ridden floor. Jerkily, she plodded towards the door while holding her side. Her face twisted into a grimace and with every step she added more pain to her already breaking self. Éponine kept walking, though. With her head held high, she tried to muster all her dignity. She walked right out of the Thènardier flat and right out of his life.

Éponine was finally free.


End file.
